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by Jason Robert Brown


  This was the horror flick Brett, Eddie, and Fudge had been talking about on the way to the quarry.

  “That’s it? That’s all you need me to do?” I asked.

  Brett nodded. I took a deep breath and smiled for the first time in hours. Finally some good news. This was going to be easy.

  “There’s six other movies in that mall,” I said. “Just say you’re going to a different one. I do it all the time in New York.”

  Brett shook his head. “Too bad this isn’t New York.” He stood up and leaned against the blackboard. “They won’t let you in unless a grown-up buys the tickets, then goes in with you. They’ve got security watching.”

  I shrugged. Still seemed easy enough to me. “Then just get your mom to go.”

  Brett raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think she’s gonna blow off the Crusade for Christ so we can all see The Bloodmaster.” He paused. Again came the golden grin. “Besides which…if my mom was there, that would ruin my plan.”

  This was getting complicated. “What plan?”

  Brett shrugged. “Keep your trap shut, Brain, but Friday night, I’m going to make Kendra my girl.”

  It had been a long day. It seemed like ages since homeroom. But I still remembered what Archie had said about the Indiana rules.

  “You mean you’re going to…”

  Brett smiled, then tilted back his head and wagged his tongue to the heavens.

  “Tongue time!” he said.

  I thought briefly of Nina Handleman—how I had been content enough with her top lip.

  “Wow,” I said, smiling. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t want your mom around for that.”

  Brett was all business again. “Exactly. So your mom’ll have to come.”

  My mom? Could I tell Brett I hadn’t talked to her in two weeks?

  “Wow, Brett, I don’t know.” I sighed. “She gets wigged out if she cuts herself shaving her legs. She’s not big on horror movies.”

  Brett shook his head. “You’re not thinking of this the right way, Brain. Picture it! Kendra sitting next to me. Girl on screen being eaten by monster. Kendra burying her head in my chest. Me comforting Kendra. Kendra looking up lovingly. Me stuffing my tongue down her throat.” Brett looked at me. “You don’t want to stand in the way of something that beautiful.”

  Didn’t sound too romantic to me. Then again, if it were me and the girl was Nina, well, I might think differently. I stood up. By that point, I realized what was expected—another twist in a completely insane day.

  “I can try, man,” I said.

  Brett was moving to the door. “No, no. Don’t just try, Brain. Get it right, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said. Then I shrugged. “But what if she says no?”

  Brett opened the door. “Simple. If she says no, you make her say yes. Or else I’m not coming to your little bits mits—” He paused and searched for the word. “Your biz mizz—” He paused again. This time an arm went out as though he were trying to grab the words out of the air. Finally he just turned to me and looked right in my eyes. “Make it work or none of us are coming to your little party.”

  The door slammed and I was alone with the test tubes.

  9

  I PEEKED outside the door, checking for any hall monitors who might catch me wandering around school in the middle of sixth period in my gym clothes. Coast was clear. I stepped out.

  DINK clump.

  “It’s perfect. You don’t even know it’s perfect, but it’s soooo perfect.”

  Archie had been listening outside the door the whole time, apparently.

  I sighed. “Listen, I don’t want to get in any trouble, okay? I just want to get back to the locker room and change my clothes, and then I want to go to last period and then I want to crawl into a hole and die.”

  He shook his head. “No, no, no! You’re missing the point! I know you’re all nervous about the movie, and what if they don’t come to your party, and whatever, but look! This is not a catastrophe—this is an opportunity!”

  It had been a ridiculously long day.

  “Come on,” Archie went on. “I’ll walk you to the gym. That way nobody will give you trouble.”

  All right, score one for the kid with the disease. “Okay,” I said. “I’m listening. Why is this such an opportunity?”

  Archie handed me his book bag and smiled as he took my arm. “Because you get to solve two problems at the same time!”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s perfect,” Archie continued. “You get to be a big hero by getting all the kids into the movie. And I get to come and sit next to Kendra!”

  I stopped short. “Wait a second! You’re coming to the movie too?”

  Archie kept right on moving, even faster than before. I had to hurry to catch up. “Of course I’m coming to the movie!” he said. “That’s how I’m going to steal Kendra away from Brett!”

  “But wait—”

  “It’ll be easy!” he said. “She’ll end up giving me the tongue. Not the dumb jock.”

  At this point I just gave up fighting. Okay, I thought, if Archie wants to live in Fantasyland, then let him. He can come to the movie and make an ass of himself and all I have to do is let it happen. At least then I can say that I did my part to get him near Kendra, and he won’t crash my bar mitzvah.

  “You’re right, Archie,” I said. “If I can make this work, it’ll be awesome. But help me out here. How am I supposed to get my mom to buy six tickets to a horror movie on Friday night?”

  “You could tell her your life depends on it?” Archie said.

  That’s when Patrice walked by. You could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to avoid me just as much as I wanted to avoid her. But with everyone in class, the halls were pretty much empty. And I’d like to say that we patched things up right on the spot. I’d like to say that I apologized, sincerely and completely, and Patrice graciously acknowledged that she had been responsible as well. Instead, things got worse.

  “Hey, Patrice!” Archie said. “You’ll never guess! Evan’s going to get me a date with Kendra!”

  Patrice looked like she had just taken a bite out of a piece of roadkill.

  “He what?” she said to Archie. I guess she was so stunned, she actually talked to me. “You what?”

  “I said I’d try, Archie! That’s all.”

  But Archie wasn’t listening. He was on a roll. “We’re all going to The Bloodmaster Friday night.”

  To my surprise, Patrice laughed. “This I gotta see.”

  Was she really going to be such an annoying nag? Didn’t she understand the pressure I was under?

  “Good luck,” I said. “The Bloodmaster’s rated R. You won’t get in.”

  Patrice’s face hardened. She wasn’t nearly as cute when she was mad at me. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll get in.”

  “Fine!” I said.

  She said it back. More like yelled it. “Fine!”

  With that, she stomped down the hall away from me, the second time in one day.

  “Don’t worry, Evan,” Archie said. “She wants you.”

  I resisted the urge to punch him. “What I’m worried about is getting my mother to buy these tickets.”

  Archie laughed. “Piece of cake.”

  “For one thing, we have no money. For another, she’d rather poke out her eyeballs with a fork than sit through The Bloodmaster. And on top of everything, I haven’t even spoken to her in two weeks!”

  Archie smiled broadly, cheerfully. He giggled. He snorted.

  “What? What’s so funny?”

  “Don’t you have some sort of magic Jewish power to make people do something they don’t want to do?”

  And like a flash, it hit me. I DO have a magic Jewish power: the power of…guilt!

  I’ve heard people of all religions say they know about guilt, but I think Jews really do have the corner on this particular art form. Jewish guilt is not something you can teach, it’s not even something you can def
ine, but perhaps I can offer you this opportunity to study it.

  There are three components to Classic Jewish Guilt.

  1. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.

  2. You didn’t do anything wrong, it was really my fault.

  3. You couldn’t really fix it anyway, you’re far too busy. I’ll take care of it.

  Now watch as I deploy those elements. I may be young, but I’ve got a real gift for this. It is a gift given to me by ten thousand years of suffering.

  It is late afternoon. The bus has dropped me off at Pam’s house. I enter with my book bag. I look exhausted. Pam and my mother are drinking coffee at the kitchen table.

  “Hey, tiger!” Pam says.

  I sigh.

  My mother says, “How was your first day of school?”

  I haven’t really spoken to my mother in two weeks, so she is surprised when I say, “I think it’ll be okay, really.”

  Pam laughs. “Well, that doesn’t sound too enthusiastic.”

  I sigh again, then say, “I think I’m going to lie down for a while.”

  I carry my book bag into my room as though I’ve been walking through the Sinai Desert. I lie down on my bed.

  Shortly thereafter, a knock. My mother peeks her head in the door.

  “You okay, kiddo?”

  I sit up on my elbows. My mother enters, sits on the bed next to me.

  “Sure, Mom. I’m just adjusting.”

  A meaningful pause.

  I clear my throat. “You know, Mom, I realized today that I’ve been unfair.”

  My mother looks surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “I know this isn’t your fault,” I say. “I know you’ve had to make a lot of really difficult choices and you’re doing the best you can. And I really respect you for the way you’re handling things.”

  My mother blushes. A tear comes to her eye. “Oh, honey, I don’t actually think I’m doing all that well by you.”

  “No,” I say emphatically. “You are. You’ve been so strong and I’ve been…I’ve been mean, Mom. I’m sorry.”

  She hugs me. “Thank you, Evan.”

  “You know,” I go on, “I just think that kids have to go through trials. That’s how we grow. Something tough happens and we just push through.”

  She wipes her eyes. “Sure.”

  “I have to learn to be strong. As strong as you’ve been.”

  She’s starting to look a little guilty. I’m doing very well.

  “So when Friday night comes, instead of hanging out with the rest of the gang and going to the coolest movie of the year, I’ll stay here with you and Pam.” I pause. “And practice my haftorah.”

  A quizzical look. “What movie?”

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter.” I pull my notebook out of my book bag and set it on the desk. “The point is I don’t really need friends. Look, I would love more than anything to find a way to get everyone in to see it, but I can’t because it’s R-rated and their parents won’t let them. Besides, I’ve got all I need right here in this tiny windowless bedroom. What I need is faith in myself. Like you have.”

  I begin doing my math homework.

  “Wait a minute, Evan, I never said you don’t need friends.”

  Here’s the key moment: I DON’T LOOK AT HER.

  (A note: The temptation here is to turn, look really excited, and beg her to let you go. But you have to hold on, because it’s about to get even better.)

  “Oh, Mom,” I say, sharpening a pencil, “it’s all right.”

  She kneels down and looks me in the eye. “Evan Goldman, you stop being silly. Tell you what. If your new friends have parents who won’t take them to see some stupid R-rated movie, then I suppose we’ll just have to take matters into our own hands.”

  “Oh?” I say.

  Mom takes my hand. “We’ll make sure everyone gets into the movie, easiest thing in the world. Then I’ll get lost—like I wasn’t even there, okay?”

  The smile has to be carefully chosen here. You cannot smile triumphantly; you must smile with simple, radiant gratitude.

  “Do you mean it, Mom? After all I’ve put you through, you would do that for me?”

  She kisses me on the cheek. “Do your homework, kiddo. Dinner’s in an hour.” She turns to go. She opens the door.

  Wait for it. Wait for it.

  “In fact,” she says, “I’ll even buy the tickets!”

  And that is how we all got to The Bloodmaster on Friday night.

  10

  ON FRIDAY Mom really came through. She drove me to the mall, nodded “Hi” to Brett and the kids, marched up to the ticket booth, and bought seven tickets—her treat, just like she had promised, then walked us into the theater.

  “Have fun!”

  With a quick wave, she turned back to her car.

  You should’ve seen it. I was high-fived, back-slapped, and congratulated like I had just completed a solo climb up Everest. I had done it! Made everything right! Now everyone would come to my bar mitzvah. When Brett threw his arm around my shoulder, I felt almost giddy.

  “Whoa, Brain,” he said. “Your mom rules!”

  “Thanks, Brett buddy.”

  Moments later, Brett, Eddie, Fudge, and I were loaded down with popcorn, soda, and candy, while Kendra and Lucy took a sprint to the bathroom.

  “Yo, Brett!” Eddie said. “Front two rows are open!”

  As it turned out, every row was open. I guess The Bloodmaster wasn’t high on most people’s must-see list. The place was empty.

  “Come on!” Fudge said, and marched down the aisle.

  Things were going well, right? But it turned out I was in for my own private horror movie that night. The minute my butt hit my seat, I heard her.

  “Hey, Evan.”

  I had never really believed that Patrice would bother to come. And if she did decide to come, I didn’t think she’d get in. But there she was, suddenly in the seat right behind me, with a copy of The Hours.

  “Oh,” I said. “You got in, I guess.”

  “My cousin works concessions,” she said. “He snuck us in the emergency exit.”

  “Us?” I said, turning.

  Patrice was half smiling, like she couldn’t wait to see my expertly planned evening get blown to bits.

  “That’s right,” Patrice said. “Archie figured it was easier than trying to convince his mom to walk us in.”

  I had hoped that Archie would just chicken out. He had spent the last two days on my case morning, noon, and night, asking me what to wear, what to say, how to act. It was like I was suddenly his personal life coach. The night before, he had dropped by Pam’s house unannounced.

  “Yeah?” I said, when I opened the door.

  Archie didn’t waste any time. “I imagine you’ve noticed that I have a very powerful, very masculine smell.”

  I just stared at him sort of blankly.

  “Even so,” he went on. “I think my natural musk should be highlighted with cologne. What do you prefer? Brut or Old Spice?”

  I was so weirded out that I mumbled something about homework and shut the door in his face. Did that stop Archie? Not even close. Later that night as I was struggling to learn my haftorah, he called.

  “I’ve been making out with my pillow!”

  I nearly dropped the phone. “You what?”

  “You know, pretending it’s Kendra. For when I plant the tongue later. Can you give me a few tips?”

  “Oh, my god!” I shrieked, and hung up.

  Thankfully, I hadn’t seen or heard from him since. In my heart, I hoped he would realize how silly he sounded. I hoped he would give up on his dreams about Kendra. I hoped he would let me off the hook. I had even gotten Steve on the phone back in New York and asked his advice about what to do in case Archie showed up. “Do?” Steve had said. “If this Archie kid is as weird as you say, pretend you don’t know him.”

  Which is what I wanted to do when I turned to see Archie clomping down the aisle, wearing the most outrageous g
etup I had ever seen in my life. I had told Archie to wear something casual, nothing too fancy. Instead, there he was, head to toe in this wild purple suit. I don’t mean that just some of it was purple, I mean that everything was purple: his jacket, shirt, pants—even his socks—like he was a member of some psychedelic rock band.

  “Hey!” he shouted. Then louder: “Hey! Hey!”

  The nightmare had begun. Now that Archie was here, I had to stave off disaster. So I jumped out of my seat, dragged Archie back up the aisle, and got him to a dark corner of the lobby.

  “What are you wearing?” I yelped. “Everyone’s gonna make fun of you!”

  Archie ignored that completely.

  “I’m ready,” he said. “Let me at her!”

  I swear, he was practically panting.

  “Okay, listen, here’s the plan,” I said. “You stay in the lobby until the right time.”

  Archie looked confused. “The right time? How am I going to know the right time?”

  I thought fast. “I’ll come and get you after the movie’s been going a little while. I’m going to make sure I’m sitting next to Kendra. Then you come in and take my seat.”

  Archie smiled. “So that’s when I slip her the tongue, right?”

  “No,” I said. “No tongue! Forget the tongue!”

  I could not believe that a boy who looked like Barney the Dinosaur thought he was the George Clooney of Indiana.

  Archie looked taken aback. “No tongue?”

  “Just talk to her, okay? Say ‘Hi, Kendra,’ and then take it from there.”

  To that, Archie winked. “Relax. The love guru has everything under control.”

  “Love guru?” I said.

  Archie nodded. “I’ll have Kendra eating out of my hand by the Bloodmaster’s first killing. Watch and learn.”

  “Okay, whatever,” I said, trying not to get sucked into a ridiculous discussion. Still, I had to cover my tracks. I couldn’t let Brett and the gang know I knew that Archie might crash the movie. “Just remember: You’ve got to pretend you didn’t know any of us were here. You just happened to wander into the same movie.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Archie said. “Whatever you say.”

 

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